


The Opposite of Praise

by Zenniet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Humiliation, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 23:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19386490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenniet/pseuds/Zenniet
Summary: Perceptor was well aware that Brainstorm got off on praise, he just didn't think that it went the other way around, too.





	The Opposite of Praise

Perceptor knew full well that Brainstorm got off on his praise. In fact, it wasn’t odd for him to use that very information to his advantage. Sugar coated words while he was spearing the jet’s tight valve with his spike, or when he was watching Brainstorm’s throat cabling flex to accommodate his length. Perceptor didn’t think that it went both ways, though.

Looking back, he should have known. Brainstorm hangs on every word his conjunx gives him, good or bad. Perceptor just didn’t think that he would get such a reaction.

“Your valve’s just moulded to me now, isn’t it?” Perceptor mused, slicking his digit tip through the cleft of the jet’s wet valve. Brainstorm kept himself still on his servos and kneecaps for Perceptor while he decided what to do with him. “This valve is for me to use alone, right?”

“Yessss, ohhh,” Brainstorm melted down onto the berth when Perceptor pressed a digit into his valve. His wings twitched and his chest pressed onto the berth, but his spike paneling remained closed. 

“Back up to formation now,” Perceptor roughly shoved his servo under Brainstorm’s chest and forced him back up onto his servos, “I thought you’d be able to do at least  _ that _ right. At least I have your valve to use, even if you can’t manage to just hold still.”

Brainstorm whined and his whole frame shivered, his spike panel popping and his length pressurizing immediately. He turned his helm away from Perceptor, who was already wise to what was going on. Perceptor grabbed Brainstorm’s chin in his thumb and index digits, harshly turning him back to face him. He reached out and took Brainstorm’s mask off, chucking it over off the berth.

The jet’s cheeks were flushed deeply, his optics refused to meet Perceptor’s.

“My, my, my jet.” Perceptor’s free servo languidly slid down Brainstorm’s back, eventually landing on his aft, which he gave a quick tap. One servo on Brainstorm’s chin, the other groping his aft, Perceptor easily spanned the jet’s frame. “Do you like it when I humiliate you?” Brainstorm thought for a moment on a response before Perceptor cut him off, “Never mind that, I don’t care.”

Perceptor moved from where he was kneeling to sit down on the edge of the berth. Brainstorm only got to miss the feel of his servos on his for a moment before Perceptor tapped his pede on the floor.

“If you’re so dirty, dirty mechs don’t get to be on the berth. Down.” His voice was cold and commanding. It made Brainstorm tremble as he crawled down onto the floor in front of Perceptor’s pede.

Servos tightening to fists against the floor, Brainstorm gazed up at Perceptor, who loomed over him. Brainstorm was quite a pretty picture when he wanted to be, lips just slightly parted as he huffed out hot air, optics lackadaisically trailing Perceptor’s frame, his shoulders back and back straight, presenting himself to be used.

“I’m not cruel,” Perceptor started, stern optics leering at Brainstorm. “What is it you want me to do? I’m sure you can figure that out, even with your processor so focused on getting your needy valve filled.”

Brainstorm stammered, uncertain. Perceptor was right, as always, his processor was far too lust addled to figure out something concrete. His dentae seized his lower lip while he tried to scrape together something that might make sense. Above him, Perceptor sighed.

“You know what? I’m just going to use your frame how  _ I  _ want to.” Perceptor got up and walked behind Brainstorm, “Stay there. Optics forward.”

Momentarily, he worried that Perceptor had genuinely just left him there, charged up and needy for him. Though, he soon heard the sound of Perceptor rummaging through something. He came back quickly enough, servos hiding something behind his back. He sat back down on the berth, Brainstorm eager to hear the tell tale noise of the padding and sheets rustling from his weight.

Perceptor pulled his servo to his front, revealing to Brainstorm what he was hiding. One of the remote controlled vibrators he had taken a liking to tormenting the jet with. Of course.

“Put this in your valve.” Perceptor demanded shortly, uncaringly shoving it into Brainstorm’s servos. Obediently, Brainstorm sat back and brought his legs in front of him, teasing the head of the toy in his slick valve folds before slowly pushing it in. Surprising to the jet, Perceptor didn’t try to rush him. Once the toy was fully seated in Brainstorm’s valve, he shifted back to be on his knees before Perceptor.

The small remote was turned over in black servos a few times before Perceptor finally turned it on a low setting. Brainstorm sighed, it was certainly not enough to overload from, so he was hoping that his partner had something more in store for him. Testing the waters, Brainstorm leaned forward and let the side of his face brush against Perceptor’s knee, which was jerked away as soon as he made contact.

“Attention starved glitch,” Perceptor snarled, “So needy for absolutely anything, huh?” He nudged his pede at Brainstorm’s side. 

Brainstorm gave a shaky whine, his spike twitched and dripped lubricant onto the floor. Perceptor glowered at him for a moment, contemplative, then popped his spike panel and roughly grabbed onto the back of Brainstorm’s helm. He didn’t push him, but the jet took the cue and dove down to take Perceptor’s spike in his mouth.

“There’s my good little shareware,” His voice was a growl as Brainstorm wasted no time in taking Perceptor’s spike to the hilt, swallowing around it. “Optics on me, love.” 

Yellow optics tracked Perceptor’s while Brainstorm worked on pleasuring his partner. 

“I can’t believe you get off on me calling you pathetic,” Perceptor chuckled darkly, a whine eeking from Brainstorm’s vocalizer. “After all the fishing for compliments you do around the ship, I didn’t think this would be something you liked. No matter, all your faults aside, at least you can still manage to take my spike.”

Perceptor’s grip on Brainstorm’s helm tightened, beginning to guide him in his motions. His other servo held onto one of Brainstorm’s, a guide to show how the jet is doing.

“Don’t think that I don’t see you waltzing about the ship, showing off any new thing you’ve made  _ just _ so anyone can tell you how good you are.”

Perceptor felt Brainstorm’s grip on his servo slacken ever so slightly. He half considered easing up on him, but he trusted his partner to tell him if he had to stop. He trusted him.

Brainstorm’s spark-pulse pounded in his processor. He felt optical fluid brimming, stinging his optics while his jaw started to ache. The slow drip of lubricant down his inner thighs made him shiver, and the vibration of the false spike inside of him only felt more and more powerful with each passing moment, even though Perceptor had long since set the remote aside.

“It was awfully easy to get you on the ground, on your knees even. You wanted this for a while, haven’t you?”

A hot pulse of shame flashed through Brainstorm’s entire being at the perfect accusation. He’d been considering more graceful ways to bring such a subject up with Perceptor, but how candid their current situation was was more than perfect. He whined around Perceptor’s spike, his wings giving a shake and his servo dropping hold of his conjunx’s to fall next to his other servo on the ground.

Perceptor slowed his pace, the stopped entirely. Brainstorm felt his spark leap to his throat, thinking he’d done something wrong. Once he managed to focus his optics and look up at Perceptor, though, he was assured that that wasn’t the case. He was looking down at him, facade broken, features soft. Perceptor’s servo left the top of Brainstorm’s helm, moving to hold his cheek and wipe away the streak of optical fluid that had fallen across his face.

Brainstorm’s glossa idly occupied itself, swirling across the head of the spike that rested on it, just to let Perceptor know that he was still in the game. The jet’s servo cupped Perceptor’s, then gently guided it back to the top of his helm.

He almost gagged when he was suddenly forced back down on Perceptor’s spike. Perceptor’s pede gently nudged at Brainstorm’s stiff, heavy spike, rubbing at the underside of it. Perceptor returned in full to the domineering persona he’s carried just moments ago.

“Maybe I’ll film this next time, film you gagging around my spike and getting all wet to me telling you what a dirty mech you are.” Perceptor growled, tone mocking and searing. Brainstorm gave a moan in response, spike throbbing with the heat that had long since overtaken his processor and every circuit in his frame. Perceptor huffed,

“I wouldn’t show that to anyone else, though. No, I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

The dam inside the jet burst. He moaned around the spike in his intake, pushing himself down as far as he could manage, lips touching pelvic plating. His valve clenched down hard on the barely-vibrating false spike and lubricant flooded out, dripping out onto the floor. His spike gave heavy bursts of lubricant across the top of Perceptor’s pede, some making a mess of the floor.

His intake strained when it was forced to accommodate Perceptor’s spike, helm held down as the mech above him overloaded deep into his throat. When he was finally let up, he immediately pulled back, coughing and clearing his throat. He shakily removed the false spike from his valve, excess lubricant further dirtying the floor. Perceptor shut off the vibrator and patted the berth. Brainstorm hurried to join Perceptor.

“You know I didn’t mean any of that, right?” Perceptor’s servo stroked over Brainstorm’s helm, feeling the small, slight indents from where he was holding. 

“Of course,” Brainstorm’s voice was still rough, about as rough as he was expecting. His servos hurriedly wiped away any remaining optical fluid, not wanting Perceptor to think he was genuinely upset over anything. That would be ridiculous, he knew, but his processor was still spinning. He didn’t know which way was up and he definitely didn’t know what to think about what to feel.

“Hey,” Perceptor hummed, taking one of Brainstorm’s trembling servos. “How about I get us something to refuel and we can get cleaned up?” Perceptor stood up, only a little bow-legged. 

“Can I come with you?” Brainstorm rushed to get off of the berth as well.

“Of course,” He looked back to make sure Brainstorm managed to stand up okay. He chuckled when the jet latched onto him, arms loosely wrapping around his hips. Perceptor’s servo fell over Brainstorm’s, where they were clasped in front of him, and the other servo cupped Brainstorm’s cheek as he leaned into Perceptor’s neck cabling. “Whatever you need, love.”


End file.
